


A Test of Patience

by Courtney621



Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29858469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtney621/pseuds/Courtney621
Summary: The Darcys endure a visit from Mrs. Wickham.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 170





	A Test of Patience

The Darcy family stood tensely, waiting for the sound of the carriage.

“It is only a week,” said Elizabeth bracingly. “Only a week, and then they will be off to the Bingleys.’”

They were expecting a visit from Mrs. Wickham and her two children and no one was pleased about it.

Fitzwilliam was holding himself more stiffly than usual. Georgiana was fidgeting with her hands and kept darting anxious glances at her brother. Elizabeth observed this with pain: it was impossible to see Mrs. Wickham without thinking of that lady's husband, and the thought of Mr. Wickham made both Fitzwilliam and Georgiana deeply uncomfortable. Lydia had not been invited to Pemberley, as such, but had rather invited herself, and Elizabeth now regretted allowing the visit at all. 

At least, Elizabeth thought, her stay would not be a long one. The Darcys could endure her company for seven days. Elizabeth had tried to bargain down to four, but Lydia had written to say how silly an idea that would be.

_It makes much more sense to stay with you and Mr. Darcy until I can meet with my dear Wickham at the Bingleys.’ I see you so little, Lizzy, that I would not wish to cut our time together too short!_

Elizabeth took this to mean that Lydia was in need of some money and that she hoped a full week would give her ample chance to obtain as much of it as possible.

The Wickhams’ arrival would be dreadful, but the waiting was still worse, and it was almost a relief when they finally appeared. Elizabeth let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She could now begin calculating the hours left until they would part.

“Lizzy!” squealed Lydia, rushing towards Elizabeth and throwing her arms around her. Lydia had become demonstrably more physically affectionate towards Elizabeth since Elizabeth had become Mrs. Darcy. “It is so good to see you! And just look at how tall my boys grow! You have not seen them for over a year, I declare! Not since James was just a little baby.”

Little George and James were straining to break free from their nurse, a harried-looking woman with a thin mouth and a very tired expression. 

The Wickham boys were miniatures of their father - dark curls and bright hazel eyes, their faces angelic on those rare occasions when they weren’t misbehaving - and the resemblance did nothing to ease the Darcys’ discomfort. They were all doing their best to mask it, however: Fitzwilliam was wearing his most determinedly polite expression and Georgiana tried to smile.

“Lord, I have not even seen your little Hannah yet!” Lydia said.

“Anna,” Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam corrected reflexively.

“Oh, yes,” Lydia giggled. “I had quite forgotten. Well, shall we go in and meet her then?”

And she marched quite freely towards the house.

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam exchanged stony looks.

“We will need to keep those boys away from Anna,” he muttered darkly. 

Elizabeth readily agreed.

Fitzwilliam strode quickly forward to lead the way inside, but Elizabeth fell back to walk with Georgiana. 

“I hope this will not be too hard on you, dearest,” she said, taking her arm.

“Oh, no,” said Georgiana, and her smile was stronger now. “It is nothing to me. Pray, do not worry on my account.”

“It is only a week,” Elizabeth repeated, more to herself than to Georgiana.

***

The Darcys and Lydia sat in the parlor - the Darcys awkwardly, Lydia completely untroubled - as they waited for Anna to be fetched by her nurse. The Wickham boys had been hurried away to a nursery very far from Anna’s own. 

A fine display of cake and fruit had been set out, but only Lydia was eating. Elizabeth could understand Fitzwilliam’s and Georgiana’s unease, but she had underestimated the degree of her own. It had been more than a year since she had seen her sister, and she had thought that time and motherhood would have altered her by now. But Lydia was as untamed and inconsiderate as ever, and Elizabeth blushed that a girl for whom so much had been done could still have so little to show for it.

“How large Pemberley is!” said Lydia, piling up her plate. “I had forgotten since the last time I was here. How I should like to be mistress of such a place as this!”

Fitzwilliam and Georgiana had gone silent - their characteristic response to any discomfiture - and Elizabeth answered only vaguely.

“I do love seeing where my dear Wickham was brought up. It is a pity that he cannot be here with us.”

Elizabeth glanced over at Fitzwilliam and Georgiana. They were each looking downward, their heads slightly lowered; Georgiana was wringing her hands; there was a muscle going in Fitzwilliam’s jaw now.

Elizabeth mumbled something indistinct as she strained to hear the footsteps that would announce the nurse's arrival with Anna, and her impatience was at last rewarded with the sound of that brisk, competent stride.

“Oh, Bridget!” said Elizabeth. _Thank heaven_ , she almost added.

Fitzwilliam jumped up quickly to take their daughter from her, eager for the distraction.

“She is _darling_ ,” said Lydia with a simper. She turned immediately back to her cake. “But so small!”

“She is not even a year old yet, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, trying and failing to check her irritation.

“My boys were both much bigger at her age,” said Lydia. “I am shocked by how little she is, as Mr. Darcy is so tall. She must take after you, Lizzy.”

No one made any answer to this.

“She is so exceedingly tiny, just like a little doll. But she is very sweet, of course.”

Elizabeth murmured something appropriately thankful.

“Are you not concerned, Lizzy, that you have only had one child in five years? And a girl, too. Mama thinks that you need to do better. She is quite worried about you, you know. She says you had better have a son, and soon.”

It had only been _four_ years since the Darcys had married, though that was beside the point. It was not worth it to put Lydia right, however much Elizabeth longed to. She glanced over at Fitzwilliam; he was growing pale with anger, always a dangerous sign.

“It is hardly desperate, Lydia,” said Elizabeth tensely. “And Pemberley is not entailed.”

“Oh, but Mr. Darcy will want an heir to carry on the name. You really should try harder.”

Georgiana looked as though she wanted to disappear into her chair.

“Well,” said Lydia, as she finished the last crumbs of her cake and gave an enormous yawn, “I am feeling quite fatigued from the journey. I think I must go and rest now.”

The Darcys were not sorry to see her go.

***

Lydia kept to her room for the rest of the day and sent word that she would not be down for dinner, as she was feeling most unwell.

Elizabeth went to check on her.

“Oh, I am sure it is nothing serious,” said Lydia. She was lying in bed but seemed perfectly healthy. “I have just been _so tired_ lately and I would much rather stay as I am. I am sure I will be very well in the morning. You need only send my dinner up to me; I will require nothing more.”

Elizabeth shut the door softly as she exited, leaning against it for a moment with her eyes closed.

 _It is only a week_.

***

“I suppose I should just be grateful that she spent most of the day away from us.”

Georgiana had gone to bed, and Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were sitting alone together in the library.

He did not answer and his countenance was guarded. It had been quite a while since she had seen him like this, though it was not unfamiliar behavior: he always _had_ become more stoic with discomposure, even if he was not usually so with _her_ anymore.

“You have been very quiet this evening.” She watched his face carefully.

“I would not wish to speak ill of your sister.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I have spent the last several hours speaking ill of my sister; you need not be so polite.”

He smiled, but did not join in.

“Perhaps you are secretly angry with me, as I have not given you an heir to carry on the name.”

His expression instantly darkened.

“I am teasing you, Fitzwilliam,” she said gently. “Do not let what Lydia said trouble you. She has always been ridiculous, but I _had_ hoped she would have grown less thoughtless by now.”

His brow was still furrowed. Elizabeth had meant to mock the idea, knowing, as she did, how opposed it was to Fitzwilliam’s true feelings, but she now wished that she hadn’t brought up the hateful words at all. She took his hand.

“No one who has seen you with Anna would ever think you value her less than you would a son,” she soothed. “Until Lydia improves a little, there is no use paying her opinions any mind, and with such a husband as Wickham, I fear there is very little chance that she _will_ improve. We will just have to bear with her as well as we can, and learn to ignore the worst of her behavior. ”

She would need to remind _herself_ of this, as well.

Fitzwilliam's expression was clearing now, but she wanted him to smile.

“Which do you think is the most unfortunate: a visit from Lydia, a visit from Lady Catherine, or a visit from my mother?”

He smirked. “They each present their own unique trials.”

“Imagine if they were all three here together!”

“No, I will not,” he said firmly, but she could see the amusement behind his eyes.

She squeezed his hand.

“Only six more days.”

***

Lydia did not join them for breakfast. Elizabeth urged Fitzwilliam and Georgiana to escape to their own pursuits before Mrs. Wickham made her appearance.

“You have very comfortable beds here, Lizzy,” said Lydia, when she finally came down. 

Elizabeth agreed.

“Who would have imagined that _you_ would marry so grandly?”

She did not think that she could respond to this in any way that would not lead to a quarrel, and she therefore kept her mouth shut. She did not know if Lydia was more insolent than usual, or if she was not in the correct frame of mind to tolerate it, but Elizabeth was having a difficult time following the advice she had given her husband last night.

“You have certainly been more fortunate than the rest of us. Not even Jane can live in so fine a way.”

They were getting close to it now, Elizabeth thought. Lydia only ever visited Pemberley with one goal in mind.

“To tell the truth, Lizzy, things have not been very easy for my dear Wickham lately.” She paused and tried to look tearful. “He does not think that we should stay much longer in our current home. He has found a new place for us, but I think we will need some help in discharging our bills before we go. It will need to be soon, for we hope to be settled before _my condition_ makes it too difficult for me to travel.” She rested a hand on her belly for effect.

Of course Lydia would announce _her condition_ in this way, and use it to her best advantage. It all but guaranteed the Darcys’ charity, and Elizabeth immediately promised money and baby-linen and whatever assistance she could provide. Lydia, pleased to have the pecuniary matters settled so quickly, thanked her sister and moved on to a subject more agreeable to her.

“I hope it is another boy. I am so glad that _I_ have boys,” she said. “And such fine, well-behaved boys too!”

Elizabeth sipped her tea and said nothing. George was a little terror and James seemed to be heading in the same direction; Mrs. Reynolds had looked close to tears when she had learned they were coming.

“Fathers always prefer sons, you know. Papa would have traded all five of us for one boy. I am sure my dear Wickham is proud that I have given him two.”

Elizabeth was out of practice with the amount of effort it was taking to have a civil conversation with her sister. She had never fully understood the Darcy reticence before now. 

“How strange, that we should all have boys but you. Kitty wanted a girl first, she said, but I told her it was better that she had a boy. Have you seen him yet?”

Elizabeth said that she had. 

“He looks a bit odd, do not you think?”

“He _is_ only two months old, Lydia.”

“I am sure _my_ boys did not look so odd. And he is always screaming! He is probably delicate, like Kitty. I do wish she had not named him James.”

“He is named after his father.”

“Yes, but so soon after my own James! Do you know,” she said, leaning closer to Elizabeth, “my James was almost not James at all. I thought about calling him Fitzwilliam, and making Mr. Darcy godfather!”

Elizabeth stared at her in amazement.

“It is true! I thought it was a splendid idea, but Wickham did not like it.”

Elizabeth made it very clear that this was not a step that she should ever take in the future.

“No,” said Lydia unconcernedly, “I do not think I will. Perhaps I shall call this one Charles.”

“So soon after _Jane’s_ own Charles?” asked Elizabeth wryly, before she could stop herself.

“Oh, but it is not too soon, now that she has had Sophia. By the bye, I thought Jane’s children would be prettier.”

“They are both beautiful.”

“But not when you think of how good-looking both she and Bingley are!” She gave a malicious little laugh. “At least they are not as ugly as Mary’s boy.”

“ _Lydia_!”

“Oh, you must own that he is very ugly, even if he _is_ our nephew. He is only a bit younger than my James, and yet how different they are!”

“William has never been strong. Mary worries about his health.”

Lydia shrugged. “I will tell you this, Lizzy, that you and I have the best-looking children of all our sisters. I do hope that you will have another soon. One child in five years is certainly disappointing.”

She was still not sure why she was being credited with an extra year. 

Elizabeth, as it happened, _was_ again with child, but she felt no reason to share this news with her sister.

“Soon I will have three!” Lydia looked very smug. “And I, the youngest of us all!”

***

The Darcys were all much quieter than usual that day, but Lydia more than made up for their reserve. She chatted away, entirely unconcerned that she spoke more than the rest of her companions put together. 

To his very great credit, Fitzwilliam made a brave attempt at conversation. He asked polite questions and responded appropriately in his turn, but it was clear to Elizabeth what a toll it was taking. 

“Lydia, you look warm. Let us move away from the fire,” suggested Elizabeth, shepherding her sisters away. “No, no, Fitzwilliam, stay where you are. You are still recovering from your cold and I do not wish you to catch a chill.” 

This cold was quite imaginary. She made a great show of getting him situated, however, and then fetched him a book (“You are the most wonderful woman in the world,” he whispered when she handed it to him). 

She hoped that he was now too preoccupied to hear much of what Lydia said, but poor Georgiana was still suffering. Her needlework was not so absorbing as to drown out Lydia’s frequent mentions of “her dear Wickham,” and her expression grew increasingly disturbed as the conversation trudged on.

“Georgiana, dear, would you mind giving us some music?” Elizabeth said, breaking through Lydia’s latest story. 

The look that Georgiana gave her was filled with a heartbreaking amount of gratitude.

Her family thus saved, Elizabeth found she could tolerate Lydia better. 

“It is too bad my dear Wickham is not with us,” Lydia sighed.

Elizabeth wondered if Wickham was really as dear as Lydia wished them all to think. She did not know what they were like in their own home, but she had heard much about the domestic disagreements that had taken place between the Wickhams while they stayed with the Bingleys. Jane had never mentioned anything, of course, with her delicate sense of honor, but Bingley had told it all to Fitzwilliam, and so it had made its way back to Elizabeth in due time. 

She did feel truly sorry for her sister. Lydia had been spoiled, had been left uncorrected, and through that neglect, she had been preyed on by an unscrupulous man. Who knew what was to become of her?

Still, as much as Elizabeth pitied Lydia, she preferred to do it from a distance.

"I am amazed that my dear Wickham can stay away from the boys for so long. It would make _me_ quite desolate."

Lydia had not seen her sons all day.

“When will dinner be? I am quite starved.”

***

Dinner was a torturous affair. Lydia regaled them all with stories of Wickham, and of a ball they had attended, and of a duel he had almost fought, and of a card party where they had each lost a great deal of money. It was clear that she thought it all a very good joke, and did not realize how unflattering a light she painted them both in.

The Darcys were subdued; it was a marked departure from their usual family dinners, full of happiness and laughter.

“Your meals are very simple here, are they not?” asked Lydia. “I wonder at your not having a better cook.”

They remained tight-lipped as Lydia took further issue with her food, and the room, and their servants.

“Lord, Lizzy, how quiet you all are!” Lydia said later. “ _You_ never used to be so quiet. Mr. Darcy has taken the spirit right out of you!”

Elizabeth did not bother correcting her.

***

Lydia retired early and Elizabeth left to look in on her nephews. Georgiana was grateful for this moment alone with Fitzwilliam.

“Thank you,” she said.

“What for?”

“For being a good brother. I know how narrowly I avoided Mrs. Wickham’s fate.”

***

Elizabeth was braiding her hair when Fitzwilliam found her. 

“I am sorry,” he said, looking slightly abashed.

She looked at him questioningly. "What hideous offense have you committed?"

“I could have exerted myself more today.”

She smiled at him. "I saw nothing amiss in your behavior. You know I will always save you, when I can." She went over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I do not accept your apology, as you have nothing to be sorry for.” She looked at him slyly. “Is your cold feeling better now?”

She giggled as he lifted her off her feet.

***

The next morning, thinking it would be best to get Lydia away from Pemberley for the day, Elizabeth proposed making a trip to Lambton to visit the shops. Fitzwilliam had business (both real and invented) to attend to and must stay home, and though she invited Georgiana along, it was without any expectation of her acceptance.

“Oh, thank you, but I have some letters to write,” said Georgiana. “I have neglected them for too long already.”

She left at something very near a run.

“What a skittish thing she is,” said Lydia. “You would not think so, to look at her. I wonder how she will ever find a husband. You and Mr. Darcy must be desperate to marry her off.”

“Pemberley is Georgiana’s home for as long as she wishes it to be.”

“Have it your way, but I would not want her underfoot, if I were you.”

Elizabeth bit back the retort she dearly wished to make, and they set off for Lambton.

***

Lydia had not lost her love of shopping, and she was as noisy and exuberant about it as ever, but Lambton was small and she had soon run out of things to exclaim wildly over.

Instead, she turned to Elizabeth’s deficiencies in dress and finery. 

“You should make more of an effort, Lizzy,” she said. “I would, if I had your money. I would have more gowns than I could count and be covered in jewels. It is expected from a lady in your position, you know.”

Elizabeth said that she had more than enough already and wanted for nothing.

Lydia looked at her doubtingly. “Great men like to show off their wives. You do not want Mr. Darcy to be ashamed of you.” She examined a pair of gloves. “I like these. I think I will buy them. But really, Lizzy, you should at least _think_ about what I am saying, or else Mr. Darcy might lose interest.”

Elizabeth, feeling the necessity of getting away from her sister, retreated into a far corner of the shop to look at the new ribbons. She knew, of course, that Lydia spoke absolute nonsense, but that did not mean she liked to hear it.

“Lizzy,” Lydia hissed a few minutes later, “you must lend me some money for my gloves. I will repay you when we get back.”

Elizabeth knew very well that she wouldn't.

***

As they returned to Pemberley, Lydia shifted her criticism from Elizabeth’s appearance to her housekeeping. 

"You should buy new furniture, Lizzy, and make the place even more grand than it is. You can afford to be extravagant. All of that money is wasted on you, I declare!"

Elizabeth just looked at her. Only Lydia could find fault with Pemberley.

"And your housekeeper is so old! It is very strange indeed, that you should keep her on."

“Mrs. Reynolds has been with the Darcys for thirty years. We are not about to replace her.”

“That is all the more reason _to_ replace her, I should think.”

Mrs. Reynolds was a fixture in Fitzwilliam’s life, and had known him longer than almost anyone; he would never dismiss her.

"I am quite astonished that your lady's maid is not more fashionable," Lydia continued. "If I were the mistress of Pemberley, I would do things very differently."

“But you are _not_ the mistress of Pemberley,” snapped Elizabeth, “so it is none of your concern, is it?”

They spent the rest of the ride home in silence.

***

“How was your outing?”

Fitzwilliam was looking down, writing something, when she opened the door to his study, but the cadence of her steps and the huffy quality of her breathing made him glance up quickly. He had not done more than stand, however, before Elizabeth crossed the room and all but threw herself into his arms.

“What is the matter, Elizabeth?” he asked gently. 

“Nothing,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. She did not want to talk yet. She just wanted to stand here, pressed against him, and let his calm, solid presence ease her vexation.

He did not urge her to elaborate, but rubbed her back and waited for her to speak.

“Lydia,” she said finally. “Lydia is _always_ the matter.” She looked up into his face and made a stab at lightheartedness. “You are not going to lose interest in me because I am not _fine_ enough, are you?”

He bent lower, pressing his forehead against hers. “What did you tell me about not paying any mind to Lydia’s opinions?”

“It is not that I _believe_ her,” said Elizabeth. “Of course I do not. It is just--”

“I understand,” he said.

“She is infuriating!”

“She is,” he agreed.

Several moments passed in silence.

“I am sick of her being here,” Elizabeth said.

“Four more days,” he whispered.

***

Lydia missed breakfast again the following morning and so the Darcys ate in peace, though Elizabeth wondered darkly about the ways in which Mrs. Wickham would provoke them all when she appeared. She shook these thoughts off, however, and resolved to enjoy the Lydia-free hours while she could. It was a beautiful day and she did not want her sister to ruin it.

Fitzwilliam, who had felt increasingly guilty about the neglected Wickham boys, took them outside to play after breakfast, and Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Anna sat pleasantly on a bench in the mild early sunlight, enjoying each other's company.

Georgiana bounced Anna on her knee, making her niece giggle. Elizabeth watched fondly, thinking of all the ways that Georgiana was like Lydia and all the ways that they were very, _very_ different. There were plenty of superficial similarities - they were nearly the same age, and they were both tall, fully-formed, dark-haired, and light-eyed; they might each be mistaken for the other from a distance - but it was hard to imagine two girls further apart in temperament and personality.

“I am so glad that we are sisters,” Elizabeth said.

Georgiana smiled, slow and sweet; not the same smile as her brother’s, but close; a subtle variation on a familiar melody.

“So am I.”

***

By the time Lydia finally rose, Elizabeth was quite alone in the drawing room, writing letters to her other three sisters.

"Good Lord, even Mary?" asked Lydia. "I am sure I scarcely ever write to anyone."

As Elizabeth had never received a letter from Mrs. Wickham that did not contain some petition for assistance, she had no trouble in believing it.

"I am far too busy with the boys, you know. It is different for you, with all of your servants at your disposal. And of course, you only have Anna."

Why Lydia had chosen the number of her children as the metric by which to display her superiority was quite beyond Elizabeth, unless they were the easiest means to provide cover for a less-than-happy marriage. Nevertheless, she was exasperated by her sister's preoccupation with the subject.

“But seriously, Lizzy, as your sister, I have to ask. Are you doing enough as a wife? Mr. Darcy is rather more handsome than you are and you do not want him to look elsewhere.”

Elizabeth’s patience had already worn so thin that it was fraying.

"I am not having this conversation with you again, Lydia," she said through clenched teeth. "You have behaved abominably from the moment you arrived here and I am growing weary of it."

“I am just saying, Lizzy,” said Lydia indignantly, “that men expect certain things from their wives. You know how our own parents are, and what a disappointment it was to Papa that he never had a son. Just think of how much more important it will be for Mr. Darcy to have an heir. To be frank, Lizzy, you are clearly not doing your duty, giving him only one child, and a daughter, besides.”

Elizabeth felt her anger reaching a dangerous point.

“Perhaps it is something wrong with _you_ ,” said Lydia, leaning forward. “I have had such an easy time of things, like Mama and aunt Gardiner. Perhaps _you_ are more like aunt Philips."

It boiled over.

***

From the next room, Fitzwilliam and Georgiana heard Elizabeth yelling. Georgiana looked at the door in alarm.

“ _Though she be but little she is fierce_ ,” muttered Fitzwilliam, raising his eyebrows.

Georgiana giggled nervously.

“Perhaps we should take a walk out of doors,” he suggested.

She immediately stood up.

***

“There has been a change in plans,” said Elizabeth briskly as Fitzwilliam and Georgiana returned from their stroll. “Lydia will be joining the Bingleys earlier than anticipated. She is packing her things now.”

***

They were all relieved to say goodbye to the Wickhams, but no one more so than Elizabeth.

"Has anyone counted the silver?" Fitzwilliam asked dryly as they rode away.

He was joking, but Elizabeth knew that Mrs. Reynolds had done just that.

"It could have been worse," said Georgiana. "They might have actually stayed the whole week."

Elizabeth laughed, perhaps a little giddily. 

"How long do we have before their next visit, do you think?" said Fitzwilliam.

"Oh, I doubt that Mrs. Wickham will be returning any time soon," Elizabeth answered. 

It was a comforting thought, and as the Darcys headed back inside, they each said a little prayer for the Bingleys.


End file.
